Chapter 39: Glitches and Growth
October came with the scent of damp soil and the promise of new beginnings. In Los Baños, where the trees were thick and the air was cooler than the lowlands, Carmela sat by the window of her shared dorm room, her laptop casting a soft blue glow on her face. Rain tapped against the glass, a rhythmic murmur blending with the quiet hum of her desk fan. Around her were the sounds of student life—distant chatter from the hallway, the shuffle of books, and the occasional strum of a guitar from the adjacent room.
She glanced at her schedule pinned to the wall: lectures, lab work, study groups. As a first-year Information Technology student at the University of the Philippines Los Baños, every day felt like a fast-paced maze of discovery and deadlines. But Carmela welcomed it. After everything—the second chance at life, the heartbreaks, the redemption—this felt like the culmination of all her choices aligning into something that made sense.
Her family remained in the province, a few hours away, managing their herbal oil business and tending to their home. The distance tugged at her heart some days, especially during Sunday dinners when she joined via video call, trying to match their laughter through a screen. But the space had also allowed her to grow, to take responsibility for her future in ways that once seemed out of reach.
"Ate, na-upload mo na ba 'yung system mo for Auntie's inventory? (Sister, have you uploaded the system for aunt's inventory) " her younger cousin messaged from home.
"Oo, check niyo na lang 'yung instructions sa email, (Yes, just check the instructions I've sent in the email)" she replied, a soft smile curving her lips. Even from afar, she was still helping.
Carmela's decision to pursue IT had not come lightly. Her past life had shown her the vulnerabilities of uncertain careers and the sudden shifts of a world leaning toward tech. Between 2019 and 2023, she had watched how the pandemic pushed everything online—work, school, business. She had remembered how many people scrambled to adapt, how vital digital literacy had become.
This time around, she wouldn't be left behind.
The screen in front of her displayed a basic e-commerce site she was building for her cousin's ukay-ukay business. It wasn't glamorous, but it was real. It was practical. She was already applying what she learned in class.
Raziel's name popped up on her phone.
**Raziel:** "Coffee break? I'm near campus. Want to meet up?"
Carmela hesitated for only a second. Despite her schedule, her heart still made room for him—slowly, carefully. Unlike Treize, Raziel had never rushed her. He'd waited through her healing, stood by during her self-doubt, and never once asked her to be anything but herself.
**Carmela:** "Sure. The library steps in 10."
When she saw him, his familiar grin met her like a sunrise. He handed her a cup of iced mocha, her favorite, and sat beside her on the stone steps.
"So," he began, "how's coding life treating you?"
"Intense but rewarding. I joined a workshop for female coders last week. They talked about the future of tech jobs and how we're on the brink of needing more cybersecurity experts than ever."
Raziel nodded. "You're ahead of the curve, as always."
Carmela chuckled. "Just trying to make the most out of this life. I mean, I saw the trends. The tech world isn't slowing down. If I can get good at this, I can work from anywhere, help my family, and still write on the side."
He watched her, a flicker of admiration in his eyes. "You're building something that lasts. That's not easy."
She looked away, her voice soft. "Thanks for being patient. For not... expecting more."
"You don't owe me anything," he said gently. "But I'm glad you're letting me stay beside you. Even if just for now."
Their hands brushed as they walked back, a promise unspoken but understood.
In the weeks that followed, Carmela juggled her subjects with side projects. Her blog, now renamed *Code & Coffee*, was gaining a small following. She wrote about being a girl in tech, her personal reflections, and even offered beginner tips in programming. It was a blend of passion and purpose—her voice finding space in the digital world.
She visited home one weekend, taking the bus with a backpack full of laundry and pasalubong from a local Los Baños bakery. Her parents met her at the terminal, proud and teary-eyed.
"Ang payat mo," her mother immediately fussed. (You're too skinny.)
"Ma, ganito lang talaga ako kapag exam week," she laughed. (Ma, I'm like this since it's exam week.)
At home, she helped upgrade the order tracking for *Balik Simula*, adding features to automate inventory alerts and digital receipts. Her Papa marveled at how far she'd come.
"Kung noon puro sulat-sulat ka lang, ngayon parang tech support na ng buong pamilya."
That night, Carmela curled into her old bed, walls now decorated with framed photos of her achievements and family milestones. The home she once dreamed of escaping had become her foundation.
Back in Los Baños, the semester intensified. Group projects, thesis proposals, and internship hunting consumed her days. She found herself competing not just with classmates, but with her past insecurities. Still, she pushed on.
One afternoon, her professor pulled her aside. "Carmela, have you thought of applying for the Google Developer Student Clubs? You have leadership potential."
Her eyes widened. She had read about the program, knew what it could mean. "I'll think about it," she said, already planning her application.
Her world was expanding. And so was her heart.
Raziel continued to be her calm in the chaos. Their conversations deepened—from tech debates to philosophical musings late into the night.
"Do you ever wonder," she asked him one evening, "what would've happened if we never met?"
"But we did," he said with a smile. "And this version of you and me is the one who intersected."
Carmela didn't respond immediately. Instead, she leaned her head against his shoulder, the silence between them soft and steady.
She was no longer rushing toward the future or running from the past.
She was coding it, one decision at a time.
And with each keystroke, she wrote a life that was finally her own.